


The Chase

by I_llbedammned



Category: Black Widow (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 09:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4620732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_llbedammned/pseuds/I_llbedammned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha embarks on a quest to get vengeance upon Petrovich after receiving a call from the Los Angeles police department saying that her "father" had left his will to her.  There's no way he is actually dead, this has to be another ruse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Chase

Natasha breathed in deep the smell of machine oil and corrosive cleaning agents as she disassembled and cleaned her guns. The smell felt more to her like the embrace of a mother than it had any right to. All her life she had been raised by the smell of gunpowder, even before the Russian government had grabbed her for their experiments there had been hunting rifles in her house, one of the few memories she had of her father was of him coming back from a hunt smelling like gunpowder and blood with a brown pelt in his hand. By now the act of cleaning her weapon had become more of a sacred chore rather than something that had to be done as she hadn't fired her weapons this week. She ran the bronze brush down the bore of her .45 and let the chore clear her mind.

This was going to be a messy job, she was powerfully aware of that. Even though she could appreciate the poetry of death and her job afterwards during the prep all the blood and viscera became numbers, statistics, and arcs. There were going to be a lot of bodies to get cleaned up afterwards and she would need to stash a clean change of clothes because chances are these kills would not be clean. She was well trained, but so were these men and they had a few more decades of that special Red Room blend of efficiency and cruelty under their belt than she did. If they were calling her via the police to meet in Los Angeles that meant that the police could no longer be trusted in that city. There was no time to do the necessary research to tell which ones could be trusted and which would not.

Her hands moved like machines over each of the guns. She could only bring her small firearms on this mission, but that was perfectly fine by her. Natasha preferred the smaller weapons as it gave her more room for mobility and was less likely to get her arrested before she ever got a chance to check out Petrovich's plan for her.

She held her phone in her hands and contemplated calling Clint to tell him where she was going. It was only a matter of time before he noticed her weapons were cleared out of the apartment that they shared while on a mission and even S.H.I.E.L.D. was not so dense as to forget to check in on one of their most trusted assets. Her fingers hovered over his name in her contacts before she turned off the phone and dropped it on the couch. No, if Clint knew that she was trying to take on Petrovich one-on-one he would try to stop her. She got out a pen and paper, scrawling in a long elegant hand:

 

I am sorry. I know you tried to save me from myself, but deep down I am a killer. I can dress up in all the trappings of an official agent and all the pretty dresses that come with the job, but I don't think that will ever change my nature. It is in my blood; it is what I was born for and raised to do. I think that's perhaps all I can ever be. Please do not come looking for me. You should not get hurt on my behalf again.

She left it folded up with his name on the front on the kitchen counter as she gathered up and took stock of her weapons. Garrote, two .45s with thirty bullets for them, a long combat knife, three doses of poison spray, electric "Widow's Bite" bracelets, and knives hidden in the tips of her boots. The urge to taunt Petrovich was rising, but she saved the bravado for when she saw him. Hell knows she would need it then.


End file.
